Ashley wailed, “Can’t you help him, Mom?”
“I can’t, honey.” Olivia quickly explained that Denali National Park wouldn’t allow her to interfere and that part of what makes national parks so special is that natural processes are allowed to happen. This means injured animals are never helped. “I’m sorry, Ashley. That’s just the way nature works.”
Steven said, “Better give me back my camera, Olivia. It’s time we started packing. We have to fly to Kantishna in the morning, and it’s already been a long day.”
Ashley stood next to Nicky. From the way her eyebrows crunched together, Jack could tell she felt upset about the caribou. Of course Jack felt bad about it, too, but what really preoccupied him was what Nicky had said. “You don’t know what you’re dealing with.”
Was he joking, or giving a warning?
Jack was just placing his own camera in his case when he heard it—a thin, wailing cry that hung in the air like a single, haunting note. First low, then high, it rang across the frozen space until a second, then a third voice joined in an eerie choir. From his time in Yellowstone, Jack recognized the cry of a wolf.
“It sounds like wolves!” Olivia said, her voice filled with excitement. “That would be an amazing thing to witness on our first night in Denali.”
Jack pulled out his camera again to zoom in on the caribou. “I can’t tell for sure, but I think the wolves are behind the trees. I see some movement—yeah! Here they come!”
Dark liquid shapes bolted out from the spruce trees, advancing quickly toward the injured animal. Jack counted six. They were moving in tandem, cutting in and out in a strange pattern, first three and three, then four and two. In a panic, the caribou tried to run but became encircled by the quicksilver shadows. It was both gruesome and awesome, this dance of death. The caribou made it only a few steps before a shadow cut it off. Switching directions, it stumbled and then, lightning quick, a wolf pounced, grabbing the caribou by the throat.
“I can’t stand it,” Ashley cried.
“It’s OK,” Nicky told her. “Just don’t look.”
It was over as quickly as it began. The rest of the wolves surrounded the kill, ripping pieces of its hide as if it were tissue paper. Ashley dropped her face into her hands.
“Sweetheart, you know that the wolves have to eat to stay alive,” Steven told her gently. “It’s the circle of life. There’s an old saying: Nothing in nature offends nature. This is elimination of the weak, survival of the fittest.”
Olivia rubbed Ashley’s back between her shoulder blades, her glove making a slipping sound against the parka. “The mother wolves will be having babies in the first part of May. The females need to eat for their pups. You wouldn’t want the wolves to starve, would you?
Just think of the little wolf pups.”
“I know, I know, but…the caribou is still dead.”
No one knew how to answer that. Finally, Nicky spoke, his voice both deep and quiet. “I know what it’s like to be left behind. I know what it’s like to be ripped to pieces. No one should ever get used to it.”
With that, he turned and walked toward the Jeep.
CHAPTER TWO
“Jack, wake up,” Ashley hissed in his ear. Her hands clamped onto his shoulder, and she rocked him so hard his teeth chattered. “There’s a moose outside in the back woods. She’s huge! I’ve never seen such long, spindly legs. It’s amazing. Come on!”
“What—what time is it?” Jack asked groggily. It was way too early for this much chatter.
“Six fifty-seven in the morning, which means it’s really 8:57 Jackson Hole time. Get up, lazy bum.”
Jack tried to open his eyes, but his lids refused to cooperate. He’d had a hard time sleeping in the ranger family’s house, probably because he kept hearing sounds all night. Since most hotels that served the park were closed until mid-May, the Landons had relied on the generosity of the park for a place to stay during this first week of April. It had been a real stroke of luck that one of the ranger families was spending some time in Utah, so they’d offered the Landons their home while they were away. Their house was furnished with three bedrooms on the main floor and one in the basement, plus a living room, two bathrooms, and a small, sunny kitchen. Nicky had asked for the room in the basement, which gave Jack and Ashley, in addition to their parents, rooms of their own. Perfect, except that the mysterious night noises had kept Jack restless. The digital clock had registered 3:42 before he finally figured out that the thuds were nothing but clumps of snow sliding off the pitched roof.
“Must…sleep,” Jack groaned now, hugging his pillow over his ears.
He saw a streak of yellow light as his sister yanked the pillow away from his face, but he jerked it back harder, practically smashing his nose into his face.
“Don’t be such a weenie.” Ashley’s words were muffled by the pillow. One by one, she tried to pry away his fingers.
Jack clamped his pillow in a death grip. “Show the moose to Nicky,” he croaked.
“I knocked, but he didn’t answer. I can’t just go into his room. What if he doesn’t wear pajamas?”
Pulling the pillow off his face, Jack tried to focus. His sister’s cheeks and nose had pinked up from the cold, and her hair billowed out from the bottom of her hat in an inverted mushroom cloud. She had on a pair of jeans and an unzipped parka with a single glove shoved in each pocket. Underneath she wore a blue nightshirt spangled with moons and stars, which hung loosely over her jeans to her knees. The tongues of her boots stuck out, and the laces dragged against the floor like whiskers. In her odd getup, she looked like a cartoon.
He could hear his sister stomp her foot. “Hurry up!”
“Go away!” Jack moaned.
“OK, fine. Miss the moose.”
Her footsteps clomped on the wooden floor as she flounced off, and then Jack heard the creak of an outside door. He lay there for a minute, then flipped the covers off and rolled out the rest of the way. He rubbed his eyes with the heels of his hands, but it was no use fighting it. He was awake. Well, he sighed, he might as well see the animal that cost him an extra hour of sleep. Grabbing his parka and camera, he stepped into his sneakers, not bothering to search for his socks. Then he entered the dim hallway.
It had surprised Jack, the way all the Denali ranger homes looked exactly like regular run-of-the-mill houses. He’d been expecting a split-log cabin heated by a wood-burning stove and maybe an old-fashioned hand pump for water. In his mind he’d pictured an outhouse behind every porch. Instead, this house and all the others in the cluster looked just like the tract homes in Jackson Hole. Indoor plumbing and everything.
Once outside, he followed his sister’s footprints to the back of the house. It had snowed hard in the middle of the night, a deep, fluffy layer of white that mounded on the branches like dollops of whipped cream. Light snow kicked into his shoes and onto bare skin, so he tried to walk in Ashley’s boot prints. When that didn’t work, he switched to threading a path inches from the side of the house, where the snow was still packed. He found Ashley hunched behind a spruce tree. When she turned and saw him, she smiled, then placed her finger to her lips and pointed to a cluster of trees.
A huge moose munched lazily on bare twigs, its large, bulbous nose and neck bell bobbing with every bite. Jack held his breath as the moose moved forward, crunching through the trees until it was less than ten feet away. Although he knew the powerful animal could be dangerous, he couldn’t pass on what could be the best shot of his life. Carefully, he unzipped